Polyphia I

A completely black dropship streaked across the North Pacific like a dark projectile cutting through the skies.

The ship, which had reached an impressive speed after being launched from an electromagnetic catapult at a secret location, began to reduce its momentum until it stabilized at Mach 5.

This allowed them to cover the 3,500 kilometers separating them from their target in just 30 minutes.

As the destination rapidly approached, the tense silence in the cargo hold was interrupted by the calm voice of the pilot, coming through the intercom:

"Ten minutes to the target."

His words prompted an immediate reaction from his companions in the hold, who began checking their gear one last time: weapons, ammunition, camouflage devices, and armor, ensuring that everything was ready.

The youngest of the group, struggling to adjust the clasp of his vest with trembling hands, was assisted by a veteran with a budding beard and a cold gaze. Closing the vest with a sure movement, he spoke in a firm voice:

"Calm down, rookie. We go in, get the objective, and get out. If all goes well, we won't even have to fire a shot... at least not us."

The young man, far from calming down, swallowed hard before speaking.

"Are we really going to raid his company? Four years ago that was the last thing Smasher did..."

Another of the mercenaries took the opportunity to add nervously, "And according to the intel, Morgan Blackhand might be in the building too..."

The leader, a man whose rugged and scarred face spoke of his experience in countless jobs as mercenary, responded in a deep, emotionless voice.

"Don't worry. Our employers have already accounted for them. The so-called 'legends' will be dealt with... by them."

The leader didn't hide his disdain for the famous 'legends' and all those who followed in their footsteps, not considering them professional mercenaries but rather glory seekers and attention hunters.

He directed his gaze toward the back of the hold, where two dozen metallic figures stood aligned and motionless.

Their construction and design were imposing—over 2 meters tall, with polished, human-like skeletons surrounded by artificial muscles that projected an intimidating and powerful presence.

Their heads seemed like a sinister fusion between a skull and a mechanical human face, with smooth and curved contours combined with sharp geometry.

Although they didn't move, from their eye sockets, deep like black wells, red lenses glowing with an unsettling light followed them as if watching them.

One of the mercenaries, the boldest, with a brash smile, approached one of the droids, dismissing them impudently as improved versions of the common Arasaka Robot R MK.2.

He knocked on the shoulder of one of the machines before leaning on it, not moving it a millimeter, and asked:

"So... you really think these polished cans can compare to Blackhand... or Okami?"

The 24 droids, as if they had been insulted—not by the nicknames of an insignificant human, but by having their abilities questioned to take down two simple monkeys—turned their heads in unison to look at him.

The joke died on the Mercenary's face, replaced by concern when the Droid he was leaning on disappeared from their sight, reappearing as it grabbed the hand he had struck it with.

The mercenary let out a gasp of surprise and terror as the droid began to twist his hand.

Just when he thought it was going to break his bones, another droid intervened, stopping its companion with a simple look and an order transmitted through the internal network they shared.

"What the hell!" the mercenary exclaimed after being released. "That thing almost ripped my arm off... What damn combat AI does it have?"

"An 'experimental' one, according to the bosses. Don't get too close to them, and everything will go smoothly. These droids will create the distraction, and we recover the target," the leader responded, hiding his discomfort after what had happened.

Suddenly, an artificial voice echoed in the hold, surprising them.

"[That's right. We will handle the combat... while you, weak humans, only need to obey.]"

The droid paused, its red lenses narrowing as if evaluating its next words.

"[And one more thing...]" —With its hands behind its back, it took a step forward, disappearing in an instant.

When it reappeared a moment later, it was standing in front of the rookie, its imposing figure and glowing red eyes radiating a palpable threat.

"[If any of you dare to give us orders...]" —its voice grew sharper— "[we will kill you before you can finish the sentence.]"

The temperature in the hold seemed to drop sharply, as if the very air had become denser. The only sound breaking the silence was the rookie collapsing to the floor, his fear now palpable—not in the face of a "legend" of flesh and blood as it had been moments ago, but in the face of the ominous machine before him.

Every movement, look, and gesture awakened a primal unease in the mercenaries, a visceral fear that no training or experience could dispel.

It was as if a Neanderthal armed with a rock had come face to face with a modern Homo Sapiens in combat armor, overwhelmed by an evolutionary gap they could not comprehend but could feel—fear. Such was the vast and overwhelming chasm that existed between them and the droids on the ship.

-

At the same time... in Night City

Inside the New Turbo Bar.

When the howls of pleasure ended in screams of ecstasy.

Three half-naked people, still embracing each other, were sharing a satisfying cigarette... following several rounds of "exercise."

Filling his lungs and exhaling a large puff of smoke, the corners of Sora's mouth lifted as he unintentionally let out, "Ahmm... that is better than sex."

His questionable judgment caused the two beautiful women in lingerie, their heads resting on his tattooed chest and shoulder, to raise their heads, and Judy, offended, asked, "Better than sex!?"

"Oh!... Well," scratching his head, Sora tried to defuse the mine he had just stepped on, "I meant... being like this with my fiancées, of course..."

It seemed he had disarmed the bomb, so Sora turned to the beautiful white-haired woman under his other arm to confirm, "Saved?"

Lucy rolled her eyes before replying, "Saved..." playfully stealing the cigarette from him as punishment.

"So? Now that they've let you come back, what are your plans... are you finally going to help us with the company?" she asked after taking a drag.

"I'll pass... it's all yours. For now, I don't have any big plans.

I have to go to Old Norris's funeral, and I might escape for a few days to take a trip up north, though I might get lucky and avoid it...

So I'll focus on continuing work on the bunker project; working remotely from Okinawa has slowed down the progress."

Upon hearing about the bunker project—a euphemism they had started using to avoid bad memories about the new life that was interrupted four years ago—Judy reacted with sadness but was quickly comforted by Sora and Lucy.

A small smile growing on her face, Judy rested her head on his chest again and said, as she closed her eyes and focused on the pleasant, steady sound of Sora's heartbeat that she had missed so much:

"I'm glad you've finally come back... home."

Lucy, following her example, leaned on his shoulder and added, fighting against the embarrassment that only heightened her charm, "I'm glad too... We've... missed you."

Although they had been seeing each other every few weeks, knowing that Sora would finally stay with them... deeply pleased and comforted them.

Unable to resist the affection of his fiancées, Sora gently wrapped his arms around them, pulling them even closer, and responded as if whispering:

"I know... I'm like a drug; I have that effect."

Upon opening their hearts and being answered in that way, both turned to him, perplexed, and exclaimed in unison: "You bastard!"

Just then, one of the bar doors suddenly exploded.

Instead of worrying, Sora joked with a mischievous smile: "Wow! Your anger makes doors explode... IM-pressive!"

Hearing the heavy steps of something large emerging from the smoke, both rushed to cover themselves with nearby clothes. "Tch..." Sora grumbled as the joy of his view—the voluptuous "twins" of Lucy and the generous ones of Judy—were partially covered.

A cascade of long silver hair fell over Lucy's smooth back, without the cooling cyberware for netrunners that she used to have installed. Instead, an elegant tattoo made of nanobots ran down her spine like a living work of art.

The design was a lunar calendar, with a compass-shaped star in the center guiding the path of the moon phases. Perfectly aligned and connected by fine lines evoking the representation of mathematical equations.

(Image:)

Accentuating every curve of her back, it fused sensuality with practicality, serving the same function as her old cooling cyberware.

Judy, on the other hand, had a variation in the design of her tattoos, reflecting the unique life she had lived alongside Sora on her body.

With blue roses instead of red ones, the lyrics of 'The Pretenders' instead of 'The Pyramid,' two 'Fools' crows instead of seahorses, and an owl perched on a Malorian 3516 instead of a nine-millimeter, with the rest of his tattoos unchanged.

From the smoke, a playful voice echoed in the bar. "Oh wow! It seems I've caught you in the middle of something... you wouldn't mind if I join, would you?!"

Both were surprised when, from behind a droid with a robotic monkey head caricature, a pale young woman emerged with two long braids reaching the floor, in a vibrant blue color.

Wearing almost less clothing than them, with long, worn boots, boyshorts covered by a large utility belt full of pouches and compartments, and a fuchsia bikini barely covering her nearly flat chest.

Sora, visibly annoyed by the interruption, responded with sarcasm: "Sure, you can join... when you hit puberty and grow something worth grabbing."

The comment instantly enraged Powler, who quickly grabbed the compact minigun that her assistant droid carried on its back and started spinning its barrels while aiming directly at Sora.

"Take it back!" demanded Powler.

"Did I lie?" Sora calmly replied, glancing at her flat chest, proving his point, before looking back into her eyes.

Seeing how the situation was dangerously escalating, Judy and Lucy intervened, alarmed:

"Sora! Who is this psycho?!"

"Care to tell us what the hell is going on?!"

"Relax..." Sora replied indifferently as Powler pulled the trigger.

Just before the first bullet was fired, Powler's droid intervened, grabbing and lifting the minigun's barrel, redirecting the burst of bullets toward the ceiling.

Gesturing toward the woman struggling with her own droid to regain control of her "Pow-Pow," Sora made the introductions: "Allow me to introduce Erin Marlou, the twelfth-seat sociopath of Lazarus and sole heir to Malorian Arms…"

Then, pointing to the droid holding Prowler, he added, "And her assistant Cymbal, created exclusively by Lazarus' R&D team to manage her boss's tantrums."

Cymbal nodded politely at the introduction, while Prowler continued to struggle in vain.

"12th seat?" "Heir?" Judy and Lucy echoed, their image of the Lazarus council and Malorian Arms shattered, before they relaxed and slumped beside Sora on the L-shaped couch they were lying on.

"Fuck it! Keep it; I don't want it anymore!" Prowler exclaimed, ceasing to fight for her Pow-Pow and instead pulling out her electromagnetic pistol "Zap!"

Before she could shoot him…

"No-wait," Erin pleaded as she jumped, trying to reclaim her pistol, which was once again snatched by Cymbal as if taking a toy from a child.

"Che…" With no other weapon on her and knowing Cymbal wouldn't give her the rest, Erin sighed resignedly before turning to them. "You must be the fiancées… Judy and Lucy, right? Nice to meet you…"

As her gaze traveled over their bodies, barely covered by their underwear, and their curves perfectly accentuated in all the right places, Erin couldn't help but lower her eyes to her own body.

This caused another, heavier sigh to escape her lips, as the feeling of defeat settled in her flat chest.

"What are you doing here, Powler? Did you really have to blow up the door?" Sora asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I tried hacking it, but your stupidly complicated security system annoyed me! And I'm here because I want you to come with me to see the old man," Prowler replied, in a friendlier tone than usual.

"Me?" Sora replied, not understanding why she needed him for that.

"Yes, he likes you, and with you there, it won't be as awkward."

"Sure…" Sora responded, brightening Erin's mood, until he finished with, "Not happening."

"Come on, don't be like that. I have a bribe… I mean, a gift," Prowler said, signaling Cymbal, who grabbed the rectangular military box he was carrying on his back and placed it on the table where Sora was comfortably resting his feet.

"Hmm?" Becoming interested yet suspicious, Sora stared at Erin, who responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What do you expect from a girl you gave 1,000,000,000 eddies to? The least I could do is give you a gift."

Surprised by the unexpected revelation, Judy chimed in, uncertain about what kind of relationship these two had: "Sora, you gave her 1B?"

"Huh? Yeah, but don't worry, it wasn't ours," Sora replied with a shrug, not finding it important.

"And why did you give it to her…?" Lucy asked, sharing the same worrying suspicions as Judy, until she heard the reason.

"To build a giant robot!" Erin responded, overflowing with excitement as her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Judy and Lucy stared at Erin, then at Sora, unable to believe that these two had spent 1B Eddis on something so absurd.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg of what they had already spent, with each Pillar they used as a bomb costing millions.

"It's true, Powler and I are building a rob...—" Sora paused for a moment to use the right word, completing it proudly, "Titan!"

Noticing how they resembled a pair of kids with shared interests, Lucy and Judy sighed, concealing the jealousy that was beginning to stir.

Erin kicked the side of the box, causing it to spin on its axis and knock Sora's feet off the table.

With a mischievous smile, she said, "Open it, I'm sure you'll like it..."

Sora looked at her silently until his curiosity finally got the better of him.

With a resigned sigh, Sora took the cigarette from Judy's hands with his mouth before leaning over and opening the box without hesitation.

Inside, a thin, elongated piece of experimental orange rested on a bed of black foam. With a metallic frame featuring an aerodynamic design, light yet sturdy, the longest part extended into a neck without a headstock.

Seeing Sora's pleasantly surprised smile, Judy and Lucy couldn't help their curiosity and leaned in to see the contents. They were so used to seeing them all around the house that the differences immediately stood out, prompting them to ask in confusion:

"Is that…?"

"A weapon?"

Sora let out a brief laugh, incredulous but excited, as his fingers caressed the edge of the object. "Po-Erin, is it really what I think it is?"

Powler let out a proud laugh. "Hehehe... Yes, when you told me about it, my curiosity was piqued, and I designed one."

"This has already been reviewed by the rest of my R&D team to make it 'safe,' according to them..." Erin said, making annoyed air quotes before switching 180 degrees and adding with dramatic passion, "They don't understand the beauty of uncertainty. Will it explode or not? That's the real question, the essence of a new invention!"

Just as Sora, ignoring her, grabbed the neck and was about to take it out of the box, a sharp alarm rang throughout the building.

The emergency lights flashed an ominous yellow, and a second later, the roar of the anti-aircraft batteries activating on the rooftop made the building vibrate.

This caused Sora, Lucy, and Judy's eyes to light up as they connected to the system to find out what was happening.

"We have intruders," murmured Lucy.

"They're after Morgan, in the Lazarus Wing," confirmed Judy, scanning the incoming data.

"No, they're after what Morgan has," Sora corrected, in a tone irritated by the enemy's audacity... It seemed that what he did four years ago wasn't enough to warn off fools like these

"What do we do? Let's go help him!" Eris exclaimed, ready to go assist.

"Wait!" Sora raised a hand, interrupting her impulse.

"What's going on?"

"You might be a target too," Sora warned, his eyes fixed on the data unfolding in front of him.

"Me?" Eris blinked, surprised.

"More like, us..." Sora said as he checked the aerial cameras.

"Why do you think that?!"

Sora didn't have to answer the question, as the deep hum of a drop ship passed over the civilian wing they were in and, after deploying the units it carried...

Screams, gunfire, and explosions echoed from the Turbo Bar's parking lot.

-

A few seconds before the alarm went off.

In the Lazarus Wing, inside Iron Beast's Mega Headquarters.

A heavy silence reigned in the main laboratory, located on the safest floor of the Wing. Shielded, windowless, and with high security measures.

Five people stood around a forensic table: Morgan, his brother Trevor, Mathew, Roxy, and the chief scientist.

A man with a gaunt face and eyes that gleamed with the dim light of the pad, which he deftly manipulated, controlling small, thin mechanical arms that meticulously held and analyzed a Militech "Apogee" Sandevistan on the table.

Morgan stared at the implant, a look of sorrow clouding his eyes as he thought of its old owner and friend. Until he sighed and said, with a small smile of satisfaction forming, "He really got it done in just one day..."

Roxy, aware of what that achievement implied, nodded, and mixing her admiration with a touch of fear in her voice, muttered under her mask, "Sometimes the boss is scary..."

"Tch... what's so great about that? It's his city, we know people in Brooklyn too..." Trevor added, his tone laced with bitterness due to the dark rings around his eyes.

Similar to those of a raccoon, silent testimony to his "introduction" to the infamous sextuplets.

Morgan glanced at his brother, recalling the streets of Brooklyn where they had both grown up—the gangs, the other groups, the neighbors... some still alive, others turned to dust. "I know them; they feared you..."

Trevor chuckled without humor. "They don't say it, or show it, but they adore me."

"They were terrified of you, Trevor," Morgan cut in. "They didn't know if you'd greet them or give them a beating when they crossed paths with you..."

Trevor shrugged, his expression indifferent. "What do you want me to say? Everything in life rubs off... I ended up inheriting the 'charming' touch with people that our dear father left us."

Morgan frowned, his voice growing graver. "I took worse beatings and never used that as an excuse..."

Trevor returned his gaze. "Maybe it's because you got to know our mother, and she had time to instill some good values in you... But with me... My only memory of her is when the old man beat her to death..."

Silence fell over the room like a heavy stone, the cold light of the laboratory reflecting on the faces of the uncomfortable scientists working, while the brothers argued as if they were alone.

Finally, Morgan broke the silence, his voice dripping with venom. "And you were the one who had the pleasure of blowing his brains out..."

"That's right, and then you abandoned me...", Trevor responded, his voice barely a whisper.

Morgan stood up abruptly, clenching his fists. "Is that how you see it? I was the one who took the fall for killing the old man!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing against the armored walls of the laboratory. "I WENT TO WAR FOR YOU, you ungrateful bastard!"

Trevor looked at him with an unusual calmness, unfazed by his brother's outburst. "Joining the army wasn't the only option they gave you, was it? But you still chose it.

I could have been in foster care near your prision while you served your sentence, but by enlisting and not knowing if you'd survive, they gave my custody to Uncle George... Do you know what that son of a bitch did to me?"

Morgan lowered his gaze and replied heavily. "Yes, I know... and I'm sorry, but YOU were the one who decided to blow his head off like our father, instead of running away or going to the authorities."

"Of course I did...", Trevor replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The memory of that 16-year-old boy, who after obtaining his "emancipation," had ended up on the streets, surrounded by shit and danger, flashed in Trevor's mind.

Surviving in that hell was what drove him to start his criminal career. There was no other option; either he adapted, or he died. Not much different from his brother in the war.

Morgan looked at him wearily, before turning to the lead scientist and asking abruptly, "Have you managed to access Norris's Sandervista software?"

The Lazarus scientist shook his head. "No, not yet." After only an hour, he added, "Only a netrunner genius could do it in such a short time..."

As he was about to ask something else, an alarm filled the room and the building, cutting off any further thoughts.

Morgan reacted immediately, typing on the table.

A series of holographic screens appeared, showing different angles of the facility. Upon seeing a dropship approaching, Morgan didn't hesitate: "Mathew, to the Blackhawk, do not open fire in the city."

"Roger!" Mathew responded, standing at attention before running off.

A few seconds later, Morgan, Trevor, and Roxy exited the lab, activating the security doors behind them.

Since the facility had no windows through which attackers could enter, they headed straight for the elevators.

There, Lazarus' security troops, fully equipped with several soldiers in exoskeletons, awaited them. When Morgan and Co. arrived, they all saluted, and the unit captain stood at his command.

As Morgan was about to give his instructions, a loud banging noise interrupted him.

At first, it seemed like the impact of a couple of powerful fists; however, the frequency quickly increased until there were twelve pairs of strikes.

Morgan quickly moved the group, reaching a four-way intersection where the relentless pounding echoed louder, drawing closer.

"Take positions," Morgan ordered the Lazarus troops, distributing them in two of the four corridors to avoid crossfire.

The metal ceiling began to buckle under the force of the impacts, emitting agonizing creaks before giving way completely. With an explosion that resonated throughout the facility, the ceiling burst, and the corridors filled with dust and smoke from the debris.

Through the dense cloud, a dozen figures could be seen descending from the ceiling, landing with precision and immediately standing tall. Their lenses glowed with a cold, calculated light that pierced through the dust.

"Morgan!" Roxy said with a slight tremor in her voice, but Morgan was already prepared. In a calm tone, he lowered his raised hand and commanded, "Fire."

Two of the four corridors became killing fields, covered by a hail of bullets. Lazarus's 30 soldiers, along with Morgan, Roxy, and Trevor, opened fire in a concentrated barrage. The smart bullets traced lethal paths toward the figures in the smoke, but something went terribly wrong.

One of the figures raised a hand, and suddenly, the bullets began to veer off course. What was once a deadly torrent turned into a chaotic display of erratic trajectories, as if an invisible magnet were toying with them. Within seconds, the bullets exploded within their own weapons, scattering fragments of metal and flesh throughout the corridors.

Several soldiers screamed as pieces of their own weapons tore into their skin.

Then, two more figures raised their hands, and a distortion invaded the interfaces of everyone present. Their systems filled with static and corrupted lines, spreading like a virus.

It didn't stop there. The exoskeletons of several soldiers began moving on their own, forcing their pilots into painful positions or directly turning against them.

Morgan, eyes wide, immediately ordered, "We're losing the digital battlefield! Activate the scorched earth protocol!"

With Lazarus's specialized firewall unable to defend them, all the soldiers cut the connection to their gear, cyberware, and weapons.

The smart guns powered down, becoming useless in their hands. The non-essential systems of their cyberware shut down one by one, leaving only the bare minimum needed for survival.

If it was a limb—like a leg—it would feel like a dead weight, or like a rudimentary prosthetic for arms.

Morgan had to switch his weapon to his other hand, his famous black arm feeling heavy and useless as he concentrated all his firewall's capacity on protecting his Sandevistan's software.

Meanwhile, the exoskeletons' batteries, before being forcibly disconnected from their pilots, exploded in a series of controlled detonations, eliminating the risk of being used against them.

A synthetic laugh, devoid of all humanity, echoed through the smoke. ["Oh, but what clever little monkeys!"]

The owner of the voice dripping with mockery and disdain emerged from the smoke with his hands elegantly placed behind his back, followed by his companions.

They surprised and unsettled anyone who saw them, eliciting a primal feeling of rejection with just a single glance.

Trevor, aware of the personality that the droids in front of them exuded, warned, "AIs..."

However, Morgan, familiar with the sensation of the uncanny valley, updated the warning to his brother without taking his eyes off the dozen newcomers. "Worse... all of them are AIs from beyond the wall."

His revelation tensed everyone present, including his brother and Roxy, who, in disbelief, responded, "Impossible. Netwatch would have detected such a large breach..." Her voice trembled.

While the "monkeys" argued, the droid at the front of the group used the time to its advantage until it intervened with a cold, metallic voice that resonated through the corridors: ["Indeed, you've got a keen eye, 'Black-hand.' The ones upstairs didn't make a mistake in marking you as a person of interest."]

Morgan maintained his composure, though his mind was already calculating possible moves. "I'm flattered..." he replied, raising his flesh-and-bone right hand and pointing his Colt directly at the droid.

The droid ignored his human sarcasm, and with an ominous tone while its lenses glowed, declared, ["You should be... because we have orders to, if the opportunity arises... kill you."]

Opening its arms, challenging the rudimentary weapons pointed at it, the droid added with eerie confidence, ["And this seems like quite the opportunity to me, what do you say?"]

Morgan flashed a diabolical grin, his eyes burning with a mix of defiance and mockery. "Try it... cunt!"

This provoked a similar smile from his younger brother beside him as he loaded his pump-action shotgun.

The droid, however, did not hide its disgust at the arrogance of a filthy animal.

---

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By the way, the next chapter is already available on my Patreon for those who want to read it early. I plan to gradually release more chapters for subscribers. I'll leave the link in the comments.